After the Breton spoke Claudius was going to originally shake his hand but after seeing what he did he quickly reconsidered.

" Faust then is it? Well nice to meet you anyways; my name is Lucian. Lucian Marcellinus " he spoke in a buisnesslike manner, not wanting to sound rude. " You're obviously a very powerful mage skilled in conjuration, being able to summon a Daedroth like that "

Claudius found what he was looking for. Was the man just a mere mage who has there to offer support to the regiment or was he something more. Perhaps the regiments goal was to escort the man somewhere, was he a high ranking leader perhaps? But what did he mean by "Besides - the saboteurs are very patient. No need for a rush sir.". There is definatly going to be an attack somewhere he thought but kept to himself. He was already acting to suspicous asking questions like this and he should stop now before things become dangerous.

He immediatly adopted his mercenary personality " Well now were here the commander mentioned something about you supplying me with armor I believe, that is if you're not too busy ".

In his current clothing the Imperial felt naked and open to attack, in armor however he was more alert and ready. A sword is good when you wish to harm a man but what about when he wishes to harm you? A sword is only limited in its defensive capabilities...

Slings-His-Knives was dumb-founded. He summoned that from his hand, almost with no effort. This made Nero either of two things to him, a scary, intimidating leader, or a inspiring role-model. He had yet to decide which one. Slings-His-Knives decided to let time tell. in the mean time, he'd pretend like it didn't bother him. He drew his wits together as he watched the daedroth walk off. The mercenry was also becoming suspicous of Nero's ability. He could tell. But he thought it was best left where it was.

They were moving quicker than he realised, they were already at the well. this pleased him. "Okay, here is a perfect spot," He turned, "Prehaps we can share a story or two of our battles around the fire before we finally rest. I've always enjoyed a good story or two."

Slings-His-Knives noticed he was becoming to open about himself. I better watch what I say, I don't want to give to much away about myself. There's something about the other two's pvssyr that makes me feel relaxed. I must raise my guard.

Once again, Nero clenched his fists, this time hesitating in his train of thought.

What to conjure...

He continued to squeeze until the mist once again seeped from his fingers and caressed the frozen, cracked soil. This time two figures began appearing, two dremora caitiffs; both waiting with dremora longswords, more like claymores. They silently strode off into the distance, Nero or Faust as he was becoming to be known called out to two of his troops and motioned for them to follow the dremora.

"Find us food."

It was simple, but unconvincing.

"I will make work of your armor soon Mercenary." Nero pronounced before dismounting his destrier steed and guiding it to a nearby tree where he fastened a rope to the noose around the horses neck. Oddly enough, he never fed the obnoxious mount.

He made his way to a clearing where the soldiers already began unloading their bedrolls and miniscule tents.

SLings-His-Knives took a deep breath. It'd been a long time since he'd been there. He climbed off his horse and led it to a tree. He tied it up and walked up to the well. He pulled his lucky coin out his pocket. He flciked it into the well.

I must find who tore up my village. Now is as good a time as any to find out who did it. The others may know more about it, so maybe if they agree to stories of battles, it may lead me to the people who did it

He turned and walked back to the camp to see soldiers walk off with the demora. "Great desicion Faust." He said, as he walked past him. He walked back to his horse and opened the sacks on either side. One side contained a make-shift tent, the other a bed-roll. He laid them out, but didnt set them up straight away. He walked back to the center of the camp, and pulled some of the biggest logs he could find around in a circle. He had to get a Horseman to hekp him out, but it was a good choice. He turned to the others, not sure if they would take his orders as he was only pretending to be there commander. "Fetch some firewood, and place it in the middle there." He pointed to the center fo the logs.

Soon all eight of the horseman were busy doing errands, set by either Slings-His-Knives, or Faust, as he was now known. He returned and finished setting up his bedroll, and tent.

Nero, whether in one way or another, kept making strange glances into the woods, seemingly biding his time. Soon, however, the Daedroth returned with the carcasses of three deer. Nero pondered how a hulking beast could capture three when his mere glance at one sent it fleeing. He didn't ponder long.
He ordered three soldiers to take the corpses, and happily they did. They had seen the different forces used by the Autocracy and they seemed oblivious, yet attentive.

"Began flaying and cooking the flesh, I need a walk. Do not wait up. If there is no food left, I will fend for myself."

Once again, concise and simple. Nero began walked towards the north, where it seemed to instantly become colder.

You'll love this armor, Lucien. Absolutely.

Claudius stood and watched as Faust walked away into the woods. Where is he going? he thought to himself as Faust vanished into the woods and out of sight. Never mind, he'll be back soon enough to deal with my armor

As he watched the woods where Nero was he turned around and watched as all of the soldiers ran around, busy with their errands and jobs. He wondered what he should do but caught site of Lies-In-Shadows setting up his bed and tent as a great idea sprung into his mind. The commander did however seem to have a scowl on his face as if he had thought of something that made him angry but never the less he though now was the best time to talk to him before the strange Faust got back.

" Commander! I believe we should talk..." Claudius paused to watch the expression on his face "...about my contract. You see I think that now we are settled we should talk about things such as what we will be doing, who will be fighting, where we shall be going and basically anything else of importance as well as my payment. You see I think it is best we do this now in private out of earshot of the others while they are busy "

It was a brilliant plan to find out much of what he needed under the guise of him being a mercenary. There was no chance that this commander could refuse as he had hired him and also he would find out who was really in power here with Faust gone.

Slings-His-Knives looked up, obviously oblivious to the world around him. The mercenry walked over, and began talking about his contract. He knew he couldn't refuse to talk about the negotiation. He decided to make it as vague as possible. He cleared his throat, "Lucien, I'm glad you've brought this up. Well for starters, We are travelling to Skingrad, to meet up with a larger contingency of warriors," This much he knew he knew, but the rest he needed to know was not to his knowledge. "As for the other topics, well you shall have to wait before you find out, we cannot tell you everything before we know how loyal you plan to be. As for the payment, well how much does someone of your stature usually get paid?"

He was pleased with how he handled it, not giving to much away, but still answering the most important questions. Slings-His-Knives tried to keep his mind clear of his tribe, but his mind was stuck on them. Prehaps, tonight is the night I finally find out mroe about what happened. I can only hope...

Jumps-the-flames walked around the the smithy's tent, picking up various weapons and trying them out. Later he settled on a hook on a long chain, perfect for mid-range combat. He walked out and was confronted by the pariah. "That's it you filthy deviant! The last solo mission we send you on! Get in this group and await orders!" Jumps-the-flames greatly despised group work, as it required watching your teammates, although he could do with someone to watch his back. "Look lively lads! We are going to march to Anvil, the centre of the Autocracy!"

The march took half a day from their camp near Crowhaven, and Jumps-the-flames was glad to be away from the fort. As he reached the gates, he saw another platoon walking in. He vaguely heard their leader say something. He heard the word scream several times, followed by what sounded like a threat.

As they marched into the town, the Pariah proudly told them they were free to do as they pleased until nightfall. The argonian witchdoctor headed straight for the Counts arms.

Is that all he can tell me? he thought to himself

" Well my payment depends on how much danger I will find myself in. If it is life threatening then it will usually cost more. So tell me...will it be life threatening? Will we be fighting hordes of daedra or just mere bandits? " he said in reply with a stone face, hoping for a much better answer.

He could tell that the Argonian was miles away. He was obviously deep in thought about something but Claudius didn't know what it was by just staring at him. Maybe he would find out more later on tonight when they all share stories round the camp fire. Suddenly something clicked in Claudius' mind.

Camp fire stories? damn it, they will start asking me questions from my past about old merc adventures. I've got to think of something. Maybe If I just change some of the stories from my old Legion days then that should be okay...

Damn, he certainly is a persistant person, thats for sure.
"Well, you see, we are unsure what we will be fighting, it all depends on how much resistance we encouter along the way. We shall pay you the average price for a group of bandits now, and if you encouter something life-threatening, then we will pay you more. this just makes sure you don't skip out, halfway through the mission, with our money."

Slings-His-Knives thought about his answer. It seemed vague, but he was finally back into the real world, and not that of thoughts. Answering to Lucien really was a wake-up call. Slings-His-Knives realised the answer had probably told Lucien nothing that he wanted to know, but it was the best he could do, as he was unsure where they were headed for after Skingrad. Slings-His-Knives hoped he'd satisfied Lucien for the night, hoping he could get more infromation from Nero later. He turned back to Lucien. "Will that be all? I hope I've managed to answer your questions."

Claudius listened and laughed

" Haha don't worry, I won't run off with your money. I've been in this buisness long enough to know that things like that are taboo. But can I trust that you will give me money? I don't know how you do things in the Autocracy so I hope you won't back stab me. But aside from that, I have enough information so thank you for your time commander "

Although Claudius didn't have all the answers he seeked he did mange to keep his cover and talk like a mercenary. Although deep inside he detested the people after all of the dealings and encounters he had with them in the past, this was the only way he could really get close to his answers without actually joining up.

" So, do you need me to do any jobs then? " he asked the Argonian as he looked around the makeshift camp

I sense He feels that if i don't give him a job, he'll question my authority, but i think almost everything around camp had been taken care of.

"No do not worry too much about that, all the jobs are done. If you want to do something though, and have set up some kind of shelter for tonight for yourself, then you can help me put my tent up. That is all, mercenry."

Slings-His-Knives turned back to his tent, and began where he left off. He didn't care to check if the mercenry decided to help him or not.

This guy is certainly cold and untrusting, maybe i should have been something he could trust. Perhaps he doesn't like mercs

" Sure I'll help you commander " Claudius said as he moved over towards the tent foundations to help put them up

" So tell me commander, that soldier Faust. He seems different from all of the other soldiers here, he is obviously a powerful mage. What is he doing in your regiment then? If you don't mind me asking of course, I know that it isn't really any of my buisness. Just curious that's all..."

Cladius knew he may be asking to many questions and this was certainly going to be the last he would ask. He just couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss here and that Breton was definatly a strange man. If he was going to find out he would have to ask the Argonian, as cold and untrustung as he was, he seemed to be the only person who could answer the question except for the man himself.

Well this time, I'm going to give him the best answer I can, But it's obvious that Nero intrests him. Maybe he intimidates him, or maybe Nero appears to be a power of higher authority than he leads on. It is most likley the latter, because as far as mercs go, this is definatly one of the most discipline ones I've ever met.

"Well, this is a bit of inside information for you, but Faust was trained by the founder of Autocracy. He decided he wanted some experince actually in the field, if you couldn't tell, he's still young, and my unit was the lucky one that was picked."

Slings-His-Knives decided that this was all he should tell him

"I hope that satisfys the thirst you have for information." Slings-His-Knives grinned at this, knowing that the merc might not be to happy about how Slings-His-Knives picked up on his endless questions. He looked at the tent. It was done a lot quicker than he'd expected, even with two people. He looked back at the merc. "Lucien, tell me, why did you become a mercenry, you obviously possess great skill in these types of things, yet you just stay as a simple mercenry."
Slings-His-Knives knew that there was many more questions he had, but felt this would be the most appropriate question for the time.

Interesting he thought to himself.

The fact that Lies-In-Shadows actually told him this showed that he must be warming to him, information like this would certainly come in handy for his mission when he reports back. The apprentice of Flavius himself would certainly be a high value target and earn him extra praise.

He listened to Lies-In-Shadows question and thought long and hard for a short while.

"I suppose I may not have had a lot of ambition really. I'm a simple man Argonian, I like to travel and see the world, hear about things, witness events yet not be tied down to one place. Being a mercenary pays well you know and a man of my skills can earn tens of thousands of septims per job. A lot of gold you understand" he smiled at the Argonian "I hope that answers your question"

I know that prehaps it was best not to tell him this, but he only knows Nero as Faust. This should not put him in to much danger

"Ahh," Slings-His-Knives breather deeply. "Now I wonder when Faust shall be getting back from his walk, I wish to hear of some of his stories." This question was not directed at the mercenry, but if he knew, it did not bother him. Slings-His-Knives was also looking forward to some mercenry stories.

"Well I don't think he should be long now, he's been away for quite a while so he should be back. Well I can only assume so..."

Claudius was going to ask him what exactly he was doing out there but thought better for now. Too many questions asked make people suspicous and that would be bad for him as he wouldn't want his cover blown. He was doing well and had already partly gained Lie-In-Shadows trust by him telling such a sensitive thing. But he still wondered about Faust, he knew who he was yet there was still much mystery surrounding him. Perhaps he would learn more later when they exchange storie yet how could he be sure that they wouldn't lie to him. They would not tell a total stranger... and a mercenary too, everything about them.

Nero made quick haste to where the Dremora made their work. The whole thing would be covered up with Nero's own insanity; he could kill whomever he wanted, whenever he wanted. The perk of being such a 'noble' within the Autocracy.
The bodies were already skinned and flayed upon the tree, and the muscle-laden corpses were being reamed and cut anew in order to harvest the bones from the carcasses.

Bone, a unique, quite delicate material. But with a bit of magick...

He placed his palm onto the forehead of the first body, a redguard, and a fit specimen. The corpse slowly lifted from the cold, bloody snow and stood face to face with the Pariah. The muscles sloughing off from the crimson bones.
He then balled his fist and struck the skull with full force, knocking the head from the rest of the bones; yet the skeletal cage stayed upright. Carefully, and precisely he began crafting a cuirass, using bone marrow and his own magickal force to bind the joints, but to keep their flexibility. Within twenty minutes, he was about done. The cuirass wasn't perfect, but would make do - and it was intimidating, which was, in most cases and advantage.

Faust eh? You really did some work on hiding yourself,
-you think it makes any difference
Well, no. Your right. You could give yourself an orcish title and it would make no dent in your rather undulating skill.
-undulating? Your right, I summoned some daedra and scared them; where are you going with this?
Now now, little Nero. Think: the argonian is a simple deviant, dressed as a deviant, and ready to divulge information like a deviant.
-you think he will have a loose tongue?
Unless you cut it out.
-we'll see. I don't think he knows enough to be dangerous just yet.
Of course not, information is the cradle of deceit, is it not?
-You said so yourself.

In short time he was able to fashion greaves, gauntlets and a very eccentric helmet from the second corpse. He stood back and admired is work; the cuirass looked like a large ribcage, to encompass the torso in a cold embrace, the greaves were fashioned that three long, thick bones ran the length of the thigh and shin to hold off sword swings. The helmet was both skulls combined, the eyes gaged to allow greater sight, and the teeth sharpened to an intimidating glance. His dremora were quite a good help, they would carry the gear back to camp, which wasn't far.

NERO FAUSTUS! the voice was powerful, cacophonous and familiar. Flavian.
Yes, father Atropos? his voice was weak in comparison, nothing in scale of the momentous speech of the Autocracies leader.
There has been a change of plans, childe; you will be delaying in Skingrad until the next night, in which you will take your troops and depart to the ruins of Sancre Tor.
Nero had heard of the site before, but nothing in detail.
May I ask why, m'lord?
You may ask, but you shall not receive an answer, Faustus. I will speak with you personally when you reach Skingrad.

Nero was in shock. Part of him was happy to see his 'father', but another was afraid. Flavian was not a casual entity any longer.

He kept his head up and finally reached the edge of the forest to the clearing in which the camp inhabited. Without a word, he made way to the decent tent set up by his troops, and entered, the dremora entering with him.
After uttering more arcane syllables, the caitiffs set the armor on a makeshift desk and began their transfer back into the realm of Oblivion.

Sancre Tor, eh? More planning... great.
Nero wasn't feeling too hungry at the moment anyway.

His tent was set, and he walked away. He saw Nero come back, and go in his tent with some dremora. Slings-His-Knives walked over to his tent. He called in, but did not open the tent, out of fear of annoying Nero. Slings-His-Knives kept his voice hushed, so no one else could hear.

"Commander Nero, what is going on? I need to talk with you."

Slings-His-Knives stood outside, awaiting a reply.

Nero turned around, breaking his meditation.

"Come in, Lies."

His voice was much weaker than it had been. After holding reign on the three dremora for such a time that day, he needed a rest. He found himself slumped across the desk and he attempted to regain his composure.

Slings-His-Knives walked in. He looked around the tent, it was very grand. he walked over to Nero's Desk, and knealt down.

"Commander, I wish to know more about the Autocracy. I feel too much is kept hushed, and i want to move on in the Autocracy. I think that that will not happen, unless i find out what the Autocracy is all about."

Slings-His-Knives felt a bit out of place, but he was sure he wanted to move on. He was tired of being a lackey.

His conscience betrayed his decision. He needed to be able to leave and return on impromptu notices, and he would need the standartes to have a leader while he was on trips.

"You realize I'll kill you myself if you don't hold your tongue. You wouldn't believe the stews you can brew with argonian tongue."

He made his point clear. The autocracy was betrayable, but death was the price. Death, or cold servitude.

Slings-His-Knives understood. and knew Nero was not a man to be crossed.

"Commander, I understand. I am at your service, I will leave you to tell me some other time if you are tired." Slings-His-Knives bowed his head in recognition, "You should rest commander, you look tired, unless your up for an ale round the campfire with the boys?"

He may be intimidating, powerful, and cold as ice but he is still human, as far as i can tell.

A look of weariness played out across his face, but as egotistical as he was, he was compelled to warm his frame.

"I brought my own special brew, Pariah."

He stood up, but cringed for a moment as his hands moved up to his pauldrons and played a mechanical dance with some sort of fasteners, but sooner said than done, both sets of crystal armaments fell the the clothed earth, a subtle sound playing out as they connected with the soil. He felt as if his body was finally easing up, as the pauldrons weighed at least 50 pounds.

As he walked towards the opening of the tent he stopped next to the argonian.

"We'll speak more on the subject when we reach Skingrad. Not the time nor place, subject."

A smile flickered across Nero's lips and he made his way towards the circle of fire and soldiers, and for a moment he felt a tinge of sympathy for the two souls who lay halfly in his tent and out in the decrepit snow. In fact, his sympathy quickly became guilt as his smile faded into an elaborate frown, and a tear slid down his near-frozen cheek.

They served loyally, both in life and now in death. They never asked to die. They never saw it coming. And yet now they're dead.

He sat on a large log by the fire, letting the masquerading flames dance to keep warm from the intense cold.

...and now they're dead.

Slings-His-Knives followed Nero out. He took a seat around the camp fire with the others. he only counted six horseman, but dare not ask where the other two had gone. He looked around at the soldiers, each taking a sip from thier own bottle of ale. Slings-His-Knives too got a bottle of ale, and began to drink. Alot quicker than he knew was good for him. He didn't care, things seemed different. He'd begun to think about what he was getting himself into.

Now is not the time for doubt.

Slings-His-Knives soon finished his first ale, and headed back to his sack for some homemade mead, extra strong.

I'll need it if I'm to clear my mind. There is so much going on in my head, I think it might explode.

He turned back to the fire, and walked towards it with his mead in hand.